Orders
by angstyteenagetrash
Summary: What are Bucky's thoughts when he fights Steve? One-shot Reviewing makes a happy author! Formerly fandominitiate


Orders

I am the Winter Soldier. At least, that's what _they_ call me. As far as I know, I have no name. At least, that's what _they_ say. But I don't believe them. Just because HYDRA has brainwashed me into doing what they tell me to, doesn't mean I'm stupid. I had to have come from somewhere.

But in between missions, I have plenty of time to think. Time to think about my past. Time to think about my escape. Just because I work for HYDRA, doesn't mean I do it willingly. They have to make me, every time, before and after every mission. But I will find a way to remember. I will find a way to escape.

I have to.

I will.

I will!

I remembered the orders I had received that morning. Alexander Pierce, my arrogant overseer, who seemed to have everyone wrapped around his finger, except Fury, had told me about my two new targets, level sixes.

Agent Natasha Romanov. She was a major threat to HYDRA's plans. She had to go.

Agent Jasper Sitwell. He had cracked and told Romanov important information.

Now I track the car Romanov and Sitwell were in. My backs up agents are in place. It's time to go to work. I jump and land on top of the car. I punch through the window and pull Sitwell out, throwing him into the path of an oncoming truck. My agents start attacking the car. A man pulls Agent Romanov and another man out of the car, onto the street. I go after Romanov, who ran back toward the city. She is my target, not the other men. I am here for Romanov and Sitwell. I will not kill innocent people. I will not kill those I have not been ordered to kill. HYDRA does not have full control on me. I will only take my orders literally. If they engage me, it is their fault.

The man jumps the bridge and attacks the HYDRA men. The other one is shooting at them. But I pay no attention. They cannot hurt me.

I strut into the city and blow up a police car with my gun. People panic and scramble to get inside, leaving their cars running and in the middle of the road. I ready my gun for another shot. Everything had quieted, but there were still voices. I listen for Romanov. She is talking about civilians being evacuated. I walk over, silent as a cat. I kneel down. She is behind two cars. I activate a small bomb and roll it underneath. It explodes, but she is not there. Where was she then?

Then suddenly, she jumps on me from behind and tries to strangle me. I throw her off my back and she hits a car, falling to the ground. I ready my gun, about to shoot, but she throws a small disk at my metal arm. It sticks to it and short circuits it, zapping it with electricity. I pull it off, but she has run off, red hair flying behind her. I chase after her. She is yelling for people to get away. I shoot her in the shoulder through a car window, and she falls to the ground, looking around for me. But she doesn't see me. I am behind her to her left, and she is looking right. I cock my gun for the final shot, and she hears, looking over at me. But before I can shoot, I hear something behind me, and look to see the man running at me with a blue and red striped shield with a star in the middle. How very patriotic. He summersaults and jumps up on to the car's hood. I throw a punch with my left arm, the metal one, but he blocks it with his shield. I push it aside and kick him with both legs. He falls to the ground and I fall back. I quickly sit up and shoot at him, but he is kneeling behind the shield.

He shouldn't have done this. He should have minded his own business. I have no choice but to kill him now. It's not my fault, it is his.

I roll off the car and he rolls again, running behind a car. I shoot rapidly at him several times, busting the car's windshield and windows. I pause to reload my gun, and he takes the opportunity to jump over the car and attack me. He punches the gun out of my hand, and I turn around quickly and grab a pistol. I shoot at him again, but he blocks everyone on the shield. I pause and he throws a punch. Then he brings his shield up to hit me, but I catch the edge, and punch his ribs, then face. He grabs the other edge of his shield to get it back, but instead, I also grab an edge and twist. He flips in the air to keep me from breaking his arm.

This man is clever and creative. He does things no one would think of. And it feels like I had seen him before. But even if I had, it doesn't affect me.

When he flipped, though, his arm came out, and the shield was on my arm now. He tries to punch me, but it lands on the shield, instead of me. I hit him in the ribs with my metal arm, and he flies back. I stop and wait for him. He looks up and me, and once again, launches himself at me. I hurl the shield at him, and he ducks it. I threw it hard; it dents a van and stays.

I draw a knife and twirl it in my fingers as he nears. And then I relentlessly try to hit and cut him, but somehow, he blocks every blow.

I don't understand it. I should have beaten him by now. Sure, he is tiring, but slower than an average person. And even if he is tired, he _still_ keeps going. It feels familiar.

Not again, with the familiarity! This is exasperating.

I flip the knife, without missing a beat, and catch it again. I swipe over his head, once, twice, but he ducks every time. Then he punches me, then jumps and kicks me, and I am thrown backwards, hitting a van. I try to stagger up, and the man walks over and gives me an upper cut. My head slams into the window and breaks it. Now my head throbs, but I keep going. He tried to hit me again, but I was ready. I block the blow on my left arm, and punch him right in the face. I still have his arm in my grasp, and punch him once more. I try to hit him again, but instead, he wraps his arm underneath mine, and flips me onto the ground. Sure, it hurts, but it doesn't faze me. I get up again, wrapping my metallic fingers around the man's neck. I push him out at arms length, and then pull him so we are face to face. Then I throw him back, and he tumbles across the hood of a car. I hop lightly onto the hood, the jump at him, about to flatten his face with my left arm, but he rolls out of the way, just in time. I look up, frustrated and furious. Just give up already! I wanted to scream. He once again tries to fight me. We exchange blows, and I was hitting him more often. Then I push him into the side of the van and grab my knife. He tries to get up, but I kick him back. I bring the knife up with both hands, but he grabs my hands with his, just above his head. I push down, and we slide along the side, and the knife leaves a long mark. At the end, he ducks under my arm, and wraps his arms around my chest from behind. He flips me over his back, and does a kip-up. I stagger up; I felt like I was the one tiring. He had grabbed his shield, but I don't give him a chance to attack. I keep trying to stab him with my knife, but his shield blocks every attempt. Then when I bring my hand down with the knife, he slams his shield against my wrist. I drop the knife into my other hand, and keep going. I punch him in the face. I try to kick him, but it is blocked with his shield. I swing at him with all my might, but he ducks! He ducks behind me and shoves the edge of his shield into a slight opening in my arm. He pushes. Then he slams the shield into my face. He grabs me by my mask and flips over. The mask falls to the ground, and I get up, but he can't see my face, until I turn to him. He stares at me.

"Bucky?" He asks incredulously.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" I spit, but at the same time, the name feels familiar. _SO_ familiar. But I can't. I won't. This man has to go. I whip out my gun, but just as I am about to shoot, something hits me from behind and throws me to the ground. I get up and stare at the man. I can feel it. I just know that I know this man. I am torn. But I have orders, and no matter how much it kills me, I have to kill him. I grab my gun and shoot. He ducks behind his shield, but Romanov had fired my disregarded grenade launcher. It blew up the car right next to me. But it did not get me. I run off and call for back up. I knew they would take care of them. I just have to make it back to base.

I sit back at the HYDRA base, technicians repairing my arm. And then I remember. A German man with glasses. Falling from a train. The man was there, yelling my name. But was Bucky my name? I remember being dragged through the snow, with a stump of a left arm. I remember the torture and pain. I gasp. I remember seeing my new hands for the first time, and choking a man that had worked on it. And then Dr. Zola… I think. He had spoken to me.

"You are to be the new fist of HYDRA," he had said. And I remember cold and dark.

I shove the man away that had been working on my arm. He was thrown against another man, and they knocked down equipment. Everyone points their guns at me, but I just sit there, heaving. I knew that man. I knew him! HYDRA took something away from me. It is their fault I am like this! It seems like hours as I try and remember. So many things. Pain. Hatred. Anger… _Fear._

And then Alexander Pierce walks in. He motions for the men to lower the weapons as he walks forward. He stops in front of me.

"Mission report," He says. I don't pay attention to him. He was not my focus. The man, _Steve,_ was it? I knew him. We were… were we best friends? I don't remember. I think we were. I don't know! I remember vague impressions of a skinny boy with blond hair, and a red and blue suit. Did the skinny boy have asthma? I can't remember.

"Mission report, now!" Peirce sounds impatient. I don't care. I have to remember that man. I knew him. But how did he know me? Pierce smacks my face. I hardly notice it.

"Who was that man on the bridge?" I finally ask. "Who was he?" Pierce pauses.

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment," he tells me. And then I see it. He threw his shield at me, the same infuriating shield at me, and I had caught it and threw it back.

"I remember," I say. Pierce sits down in front of me, but I hardly see him. Instead, all I see is the man, his face, staring at me in recognition. He looked so confused and hurt. Now I know how he felt.

"Your work has been a gift to mankind," Pierce began. "You shaped the century." And then I am mad. I am furious. He wants me to forget, just become a mindless killing machine again. But I won't, he can't make me!

"And I need you to do it one more time," Pierce said. Apparently he wasn't done. He likes the sound of his own voice that was for sure. "Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning, we're going to give it a push." But I don't want to. No one ever asks what _I_ want. I don't want this! I want a normal life; they can't do this to me! They think I am a fearless monster, but I am scared! I am afraid! They try to make me forget, but I don't want to! Pierce must have read my expression. I never said I wanted to be a monster, something everyone is afraid of!

"What? You don't do your part, I can't do mine," he says, arrogantly. I know I have no choice, but that doesn't mean I like it. Why don't they let me choose for once? Why can't I?! What is so wrong about me wanting to remember, to be free? "And HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves." He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to make a decision.

"I knew him," is all I say. It's all I can say. I knew that man, and I want to why I knew him. That man and I… we were friends, I just know. That's why he looked at me like that. He thought I was dead. But why? Why can't I know more? HYDRA wants to free the world? They can start with me. Pierce only nods and stands.

"Prep him," he commands. They can't do this! Why do they do this? I knew him. I knew him! One of the men argues that they can't. But Pierce tells him to wipe me, to start over. But I don't want to start over! I just started to remember, they can't take that! But I knew I had no choice. This was not fair!

But I will not go willingly. I will not. They cannot make me forget how to defy in the little ways.

They push me back into the chair, a blank expression on my face. I know what happens next. I hate it. Every time, I hate it. I ready myself, as they turn on the machines. I don't care what happens next, they cannot make me forget! I feel cold metal on my bare arm, and I know what happens next. I hate it! It hurts, the pain, every time! It hurts so badly, but I don't want to forget! The metal closes around my head, about to wipe my memory.

They cannot make me forget! I feel it, the pain, the horrible, horrible pain! It makes me scream, but I cannot give in! I cannot let them win!

They cannot make me forget!

 _They cannot make me forget!_

 _ **They cannot make me forget!**_

I am the Winter Soldier.


End file.
